


Pray She does not find your Ghosts

by Lestradesexwife



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angry Shuri, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky is in Cryo and will be fine, Gen, Genius Shuri (Marvel), Medical Torture, Medical Trauma, Shuri is sweetness and light but will also mess you up if you cross her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 13:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lestradesexwife/pseuds/Lestradesexwife
Summary: In preparations for reviving James and restoring his arm Shuri learns what his handlers did to him. She is not amused.





	Pray She does not find your Ghosts

Shuri gets a hold of the documents that were stored in Siberia. As well as scans of the cryo tubes and _the chair._ At first she is confused by it, it doesn’t seem to have any diagnostic or maintenance functions. Once the scans of the documents start to come in she begins to understand.

The scans of James’ arm taken in Wakanda are informative, and she is able to reconstruct the workings of the arm from the documents and research notes. She needs a full understanding of what was done to James if she is going to correct it. 

She runs a check on the names that are mentioned in the Siberian files. The earliest files are simple enough to confirm. Old age, men who died frail in their beds, or were purged. But the files stop when James was transferred from that facility. The Hydra files are less specific, James is mentioned sporadically, but the names of the Hydra agents that controlled him are not. 

She works backwards, tracing chemicals and materials that would have been needed for his cryo storage. Finds the gaps in his mission history that indicate he would have been in stasis, works out where he was kept and who was likely to be there, finds a list of potentials. Many of them, the Strike team members are dead, and confirmed dead. Some are in prison, some on the Raft, some in more comfortable quarters. She flags those.

An unacceptable number are free. Mostly techs, lower level agents who would have been monitoring James in cryo. One of the electrical engineers who had been responsible for his arm. 

That one makes her jaw tense. For some reason she’s offended by his bowtie, his face as pale as the background of his photo identification. 

She considers it. She is a Princess of Wakanda, she has access to people, warriors who would do her bidding.

Instead she calls for her brother.

When he arrives he approaches her cautiously. There is no music playing in her lab, the scans of the chair float on her screen. She is prodding at the reconstruction of the arm on the sand table, the arm she intends to give James rests partially completed behind her.

“My sister.” His gentle voice soothes.

“My King.” Usually it would be a joke, a sister teasing her elder brother, but for what she is about to ask she must be serious. Must have him take her seriously. “I have found some information on…” She can’t think of a word that describes them. “There are, some of them have not been found by justice.” She _wants_ to ask for their lives. “I would like permission to send the War Dogs to hunt them down. Have them delivered to the…” She waves her hand, the justice of the colonizers is better than having them free under the sky. She will take what pleasure she can from the likelihood that the pale-as-milk man will shit himself and beg when the War Dogs find him. 

T’Challa opens his mouth to speak, and she can see he is going to say something about the Accords, the United Nations.

“Come, look at this.” She gestures at the sand table. “This is one of the control circuits from the original schematics. It was designed to create feedback in the circuits, based on their notes, it would cause the bio-feedback connections to produce the sensation of pain. All the time. The original designer believed that it was necessary as a measure of control. Apparently in the early days he tried to escape several times. Eventually they solved that with this.” She gestures at the schematics of the chair, gleaned from both the notes and the kimono bead scan of the wreckage of the Siberian facility.

“They used electroshock, to the memory and decision making parts of his brain; and a cocktail of drugs I believe would put you into a coma for several months. Then they revived and shocked him again. Over and over until he could not even beg them to stop any longer.” She scrolls through the logs of the original notes, showing the months of ‘conditioning’ that James endured. “Now you will tell me, ‘These men are dead.’ and they are. I would find their graves and dig up their ghosts if I could. This circuit, it does not improve his function, the only purpose is to cause him pain. It could be removed and his function would be improved, in fact. But they did not.”

She pulls up the milk-man’s picture. “He wanted to make it stronger.” She pulls up a picture another picture. “This one tested weapons on him, to see how fast he would heal.”

T’Challa lifts his hands, cutting her off. “Will you be satisfied, if I send men to do this?”

Shuri sighs, but tells the truth. “No.”

He nods, holds out his hand to pull her close. “I’m sorry, my sister.” She lets him pull her close and into a hug. “It will be done.”


End file.
